Warmth
by Darkfire75
Summary: Something I filled for myself at the kink meme. Russia visits America during the winter and...warms him up. Russia/America.


_**Author's note:**__ First time writing an Hetalia fanfic. I actually kind of wrote it for a request I made at Hetalia_Kink (yes, I filled my own request. I R KOOL). So my prompt was "Russia/America, it's winter in America and Russia pays him a visit to keep him warm. Sex by a fireplace if possible." No buttsecks here unfortunately, but I did sneak in some oral. I'm not sure when this is taking place. After WWII maybe? I just know it's during winter. I'm proud I was finally able to write this. This pairing is hawt and sexy and taboo and I LOVE IT. Oh yeah, and writing Russia's accent is a little bit tricky but I think I did okay ^^;_

_Little note:__ "da" means "yes", according to every Hetalia fanfic I've read with Russia...I'm trusting the authors know their languages and used it lol_

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing, except this fanfic._

--------

The thing Russia truly desired (besides everyone becoming one with him) was warmth. Warmth was a rare thing to feel in the bitter winters where he lived. Nothing grew in the cold. It was a dead wasteland of white. And Russia himself was not a warm person. He was cold and calculating and the other countries knew this and were wary of him.

Except one.

The warmest of them all, the one who craved attention and stuck his nose into everyone's business, the one who always kept a positive attitude…was America. Russia despised and envied him. America was warm and friendly and well-liked. He didn't have to suffer through constant winter. Winter came once every year for the American. He would be loud and complain about the blizzards that swept his regions.

Russia wanted to strangle him. What America called a 'blizzard' was a flurry to him.

It was winter in America again. Russia had decided to pay the noisy nation a visit. He knocked on the door to the house and a shivering blonde answered. "R-Russia?"

"Hello, America-kun," the larger man replied, smile ever present.

"W-What brings you here?"

"I vanted to see you. Does that upset you, comrade?"

"I…no, no. Come in. It's freezing out there."

Russia was tempted to say that it felt like summer to him, but kept his mouth shut. He gracefully walked through the door. America, still shivering, looked up at him. "I can take your coat if you want…"

"No, no, that von't be necessary. I von't be staying long, you see."

"O-Oh." America's eyebrows creased worriedly. "Well…um…I was just going over some things by the fireplace..."

"That sounds nice," Russia said, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Vould you mind if I joined you?"

"N-Not at all."

The room was indeed very warm and Russia was tempted to remove his heavy coat. He watched as America curled up on the couch closest to the fireplace and wrapped a blanket around himself. "You are cold, da?" Russia asked, standing by the doorway.

America nodded. "I hate winter. Canada likes to tease me about how wimpy I am around this time of year. It's the only time of the year when he decides to be a prick."

Russia smiled coldly. "I see." He took a few strides and sat himself down on the couch beside the smaller man. America stared at him curiously, unsure of what his intentions were. "I, too, dislike the vinter. For me, it is constant. Year around, my land is frozen." He looked over at America with a cruel smile. "But for you, at least you have summer and spring, da? You are able to experience varm veather."

The blonde opened his mouth but shut it. Instead, he stared at the fireplace crackling away. Russia knew he had hit a sore point. He leaned back against the couch comfortably. "Why did you come, Russia?" America finally mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"The war is over with. You said you didn't want anything more to do with me. So why…?"

Russia's demeanor changed suddenly. The room began to feel colder. "You talk too much, America-kun," he said sweetly, though his voice was laced with a deep hatred. "You vhine and complain of your vinters, and you stick your nose into business that does not concern you."

"I…"

"Every time you speak, you annoy me." His smile widened. "I vould very much like to break you."

America swallowed hard, suddenly very scared. "L-Look, I don't get why this bothers you so much…"

Russia towered over him, pinning him to the couch. "That is because you choose not to notice how others are feeling. You are blind to their feelings, da? Vhile everyvone caters to America's vants and needs, you do not care vhat they sacrifice."

"Russia…"

The larger man put a finger to his lips. "Do not speak, America-kun." He was straddling the young nation now. America was frightened of him, but trying his hardest to show that he wasn't. It made him want to laugh. A hero 'til the end, huh? His gloved hands traced along the American's face, removing his glasses.

"H-Hey, those are—"

"Texas vill be fine on the table, da?" The Russian smiled cruelly as he placed the glasses on the coffee table. America blushed furiously. "You have been shivering since I got here, comrade," he said disapprovingly.

"Of course I have, it's freaking cold outside."

"Hmm…and yet you still shiver vhile in front of a fireplace?"

"The fireplace only warms up so much."

"Is that so? Tell me, America-kun, vhere is it that you are cold?" He let one of his gloved hands reach under the other's shirt and lift it up. America inhaled sharply at the touch. "You are varm here, da?" The blonde was flushed red now, unused to the physical contact.

"S-Stop…"

"Your hands are cold."

America watched as the older man slowly unbuckled his pants. He hitched his breath as the cool air hit his exposed skin. "C-Cold…" he whimpered.

"You are cold down here, comrade?" A gloved hand touched the inside of his thigh.

America gasped and arched his back. "D-Don't…touch…there."

Russia smirked suddenly. "You vant to feel varm, da?"

The American wanted to say no, but the gentle caresses were beginning to feel really good. He nodded his head as best he could, grabbing the blanket around himself tightly. Russia smiled at him (even though he knew it wasn't really a smile, more like a grin) and bent his head down, letting his breath tickle the top of the American's cock. It wasn't fully erect yet, but he was about to remedy that. He pulled off the glove on his right hand with his teeth, an action that earned him a moan from the man below him.

He then spread the blonde's legs further apart before letting them rest on his shoulders. His ungloved hand reached around the base of the other's cock and began to pump. America groaned and turned his head. His left hand frantically searched for something to hold before touching down on the Russian's soft hair. Russia stared back at him with his dark eyes as he pumped him.

"R-Russia…"

"Yes, America-kun?"

"Warmth…I wanna…feel…"

Russia nodded without a word before lowering his head to the now erect penis before him. His mouth closed over the head and he began to suck. The heat was overwhelming as all the blood began rushing down. America's hand grabbed at his hair and urged him forward. But Russia was not being controlled. Oh no. He was the one in control here. His tongue gave experimental licks along the underside to see the reactions he'd get. America whined and whimpered and arched his back each time.

"I'm gonna…"

"You cum vhen I say you can," the Russian growled.

America's heavy pants echoed around the room. "P-Please…Russia…"

"Shut your mouth, America-kun." He squeezed the other's erection tightly, making America gasp loudly. He then engulfed the organ in his mouth once more, his eyes never leaving the American's flushed face.

"I…I can't hold it…."

Russia pulled back and squeezed the head. "I vill let you cum now." The second he took his hand off, America came, screaming and moaning as he did. Russia got off of him, putting his glove back on. America reveled in the aftermath for a bit before realizing his guest was leaving.

"W-Wait! Russia!" he called. He hurriedly buckled his pants back up and ran after him. The Russian was at the front door, a solemn smile on his face. "Where are you going?"

"Back home," he replied. "Your vinter is almost over. Look, the sun is out now and patches of green are peeking through the snow…"

"But—"

"Goodbye, America-kun. I trust you are varm now, da?"

He left without another word, his scarf billowing out behind him.


End file.
